Shadows of The Past
by Not-So-Perfect 10
Summary: Darkness is slowly consuming the land of Hyrule...The dead are rising from their graves, Hylians go missing, and even the nobles fear for their lives. The cause? A certain 'Sorceress of Shadows' and a young man who bears resemblence to Link.
1. Tombs

Link stepped cautiously into the darkened tomb, shield positioned and sword drawn; and as seemed to be a rule to all rooms he entered, the path leading back to the cemetery slammed closed cutting out any light whatsoever. He stayed perfectly still, but the foul stench of decay filled his nostrils, urging him to find a way out. The tomb was cold, and felt sodden underneath his feet as if he were sinking into mud. So reluctantly he moved forward a bit, and blindly returned his shield to his back, then carefully adjusted his sheath's strap so that it sat at his hip before he returned his sword to it.

Link reached into his pack and produced a satchel of ember seeds and tossed one in front of him. It flared up and the sight that its flickering light provided was gruesome. Bones were scattered across the floor; they were covered in moss and grime. But on top of them were the pale and mangled corpses of the recently deceased and to Link's horror many hollow, lifeless eyes stared at him widely, purple bags under them. He gulped and took a step backwards with a level of fear he had never before experienced. Tossing another ember seed, the edges of the room lit dimly to reveal open earth and the scrambled remains of skeletons. Almost in a trance, Link threw yet another seed and before he had time to understand what he'd seen, something snuffed it out.

Reflexively he ripped his sword from its sheath as another seed was snuffed…and another…  
_Where is it…? I saw it, where'd it go?_ He shuddered as a moaning noise awoke not far from him, and he heard the snap of brittle bones as if something had put pressure on them. Very carefully, without making a noise, he cast out his last ember seed…

---

"Father Dampe, What's going on here?"  
"Lieutenant, I wish I could say…" grunted the old man as he tugged on the door to a derelict tomb. He pulled a key out of a lock that held the door shut so firmly and gave a rattling sigh. "It would seem that someone has been tampering with the graves…" his withered hands rattled the keys on their large ring until he'd found another he wished to try and shoved it into place. "Just last night I found three tombstones banged up and shattered, and it's been happening all week." The lieutenant, who must've been forty years the younger than Father Dampe, helped the old man in his struggle to pry the tomb's door open. "Father, may I ask why this tomb is so important to get into?" the church elder stood stock-still and faced his inquisitor grimly "Someone is stuck inside…"

---

Link backed towards the wall, an inhuman looking corpse was pursuing him and let out a bone-chilling shriek that sent a shiver down the length of his spine. He tried desperately to keep moving, but his legs refused to keep walking, and his arms wouldn't budge to swing his sword or retrieve his shield. The creature was so thin that its skin was more like leather stretched tightly around a skeleton, and so weak that it limped and stumbled and moved barely faster than a snail, yet Link was trapped and consumed by a terrible, cold dread. Perhaps it was the eyeless sockets that seemed to pierce him, or the empty mouth that hung so slack, they made the thing seem like a madman's marionette.

_It's just a puppet…_ Link thought, barely convincing himself. _It isn't really alive, you cut the cords that make it move, and it's lifeless… So find the cords…_ There was little time if any to "Find the cords," the thing was only a yard away and Link still couldn't move. The creature emitted a loud moan and sprung forward with a burst of energy. It's cold limbs wrapped around Link's form and he let out a yell of pain as something slid into his neck. His body was becoming cold, his senses weren't responding as quickly, and he could hear the creature making a disgusting noise as if it were drinking large gulps of something over and over again. He staggered forward as the thing released him, his mind blurry. Another shriek emerged from behind him and he had enough thought to turn and swing his blade into the creature, which merely recoiled and continued its pursuit. Again and again he swung his blade, wincing at the sounds it made upon contact, but the thing was unfazed. With one last attempt, he took the hilt of his sword in both hands, backed up a little ways, lunged forward and shoved the blade strait through the creature. It gave a deep groan and slumped to the ground as Link retrieved his sword, and the doors to the tomb reopened allowing the dusty sunlight to purge the filthy room.

"Who's in there?" beckoned the grating voice of an old man "Show yourself!"  
"I'm not hiding," Link grunted as he forced himself back through the muck and towards the entrance. His whole body ached from the attack of that creature, and he had no intention of going after the person who he'd tracked down here.  
"My word," gasped the man upon seeing him. Link looked up, wincing slightly, to see a hunched over, rather short old man with wrinkled and spotted skin and a balding head. He wore a set of black robes and Link could see a silver cross hanging at his side. "What happened to you?" the man asked as he hobbled into the tomb. His weak blue eyes surveyed Link, mostly a large gash in the back of his neck. "I had a nasty run in with someone…Father, we need to get out of here…"


	2. Shadows And Nails

Deep into the sodden tomb, past mounds of earth and shelves of ashes, through the primitive halls and into a large open room stood a young woman, her white hair tied in a knot behind her head, dressed in royal blue, overlaid with the silver of her armor. Her large burgundy eyes studied the cold room. It was made entirely of stone, and at the head of the room was a stage, red curtains hiding all but the edge of the platform. The room itself was empty other than the curtain and the white-haired woman, though that was deduced only by what she could see mingled with anything her ears happened to hear. Not entirely accurate on her part.

The woman traipsed over towards the stage noiselessly, stopping midway and Elven ears twitching slightly. She heard breath. She took two steps forward and one step to the right just as a huge thud sounded in the exact place she'd been a moment before. That was the problem with Iron Knuckles, they weren't very intelligent on their own and had a terrible sense of timing. The woman turned quickly, an enormous suit of gerudo-crafted armor was unfolding from the crouch it had landed in. That was another fault; the thing inside the suit (for sometimes they were human and others not) was so weighed down by the armor that it slowed its legs down immensely. It turned to face her and let out a sort of growl before it charged at her, metallic clangs sounding with each step of its pounding feet. It raised its oversized halberd over its head and brought it down swiftly, only missing the woman's feet as she strafed. The head of the halberd wedged into a crack in the stone and the woman moved behind the Iron Knuckle quickly. She reached around its head and caught it in the bend of her arm, her fingers curled into a fist. The other hand was already laden with a small dagger which it brought down upon the creature's unprotected back. It let out a roar as it ripped the halberd from the ground and broke the woman's grip. Again it swung, pivoting on the spot so as to hit her at an angle; but this time the woman gripped the handle of the halberd as it came down. This seemed to take the thing by surprise, and feeling its momentary weakness, the woman shifted her feet, pulling a tight 360 with the halberd now in her own hands. As her spin stopped so did the weapon, right into the stunned creature's chest. A moment later the Iron Knuckle fell backwards, its metal plated head hitting the ground with a loud clatter. The woman looked up from the fallen enemy to see that the red curtains were being drawn back.

"Good job…" She muttered. Her body fell limply to the ground. From the fallen sheikah came a shadow, which seemed almost tangible. If one looked closely enough he would see two eyes in the misty shadow, but no one ever got close enough to do so. The shadow hovered over to the side of the sheikah woman and slowly materialized into the form of a tall lady with red hair, violet eyes, and aqua tinged skin. She wore a strange dress of white, purple designs trailed down the skirt, and an odd black hat sat on her head, holding her hair (with the exception of the bangs that hung to one side of her face) in place. The lady slunk up the couple of stairs that led to the stage and found a stone similar to a grave marker there. Her red eyes scanned the stone quickly, reading the poem that was engraved there with very little interest. What _did_ interest her however was the small line of music that lay at the end of the poem. She ran a long finger across the notes, the sharp red nail hovering barely above the engraving. The song would silence the dead…it would purge the darkness, and ultimately it was too much of a threat to her plan. With a little smile upon her lips, she moved her whole hand back to the beginning of the song and slowly raked her long fingernails all the way across it; the polished stone squealed horribly, and she went over it once more until the notes had been scratched away. The boy would have to be dealt with later, but for the moment the song was safe from any other troublemakers…

Veran left the little stage and nudged the other woman's body with her foot. The sheikah was merely unconscious, and the sorceress couldn't afford to have Zelda's little bodyguard roaming about. Just as she reached for the halberd, the sound of the tomb's door rang from the hallway. Veran looked up quickly; even with her abilities, the sorceress couldn't afford to be found out. With a hateful look at the white-haired woman, she faded into a shadow once more and drifted out of the tomb, passing a bleeding young man, the reverend, and a soldier on her way out. If anything, she'd managed to destroy the engraving of the Sun's Song, and she might've even framed that fool Impa…though a more _final_ departure would have made her much happier. Next time she would do better, but for now it was a decent start, at least until it was safe to use magic again...

---

"AUGH! CAN'T WE JUST LEAVE IT ALONE!"  
"I'm afraid not."  
"IT'LL BE FINE, _YEOWCH!_"  
"No it won't, quit wiggling."  
"I'M NOT WIGGLING!"  
The nurse set down her surgical needle and walked around the examination table to face Link. "You ARE wiggling and you can STOP YELLING!" she told him in frustration "I already have to be careful because of where the cut is at (Link interjected with "It isn't a cut."), you yelling is only making me nervous!" Link glared back at her, his own face was contorted with both annoyance and pain. Anesthetic had yet to be invented, and being stitched up without it hurt like---well, anyway...

"If someone would quit prodding around my neck..." he growled and gave her a nasty look. She opened her mouth to retaliate just as another nurse scurried through the door, stopping dead the second she caught site of what was going on. The nurse's eyes wandered over to Link's neck (which was only partially sewn up) and back to the red-faced nurse who was supposed to be taking care of it. The other nurse soon realized this and turned even redder than before. "Erin, you can't just stop in the middle of a procedure!" cried the nurse who'd wandered in. She took haste in cleaning around Link's wound and continuing to stitch where Erin had left off, while the latter left the room looking thoroughly embarrassed. The rest of the time that the other nurse (whose name was Melinda) stitched him up, Link sat gritting his teeth and trying not to say anything lest he frustrate another nurse and go from examination table to autopsy table.

When Melinda had finally finished stitching and had taken care of cleaning up around the gash, she helped Link pull his tunic over his neck. "You're going to have to lay off the swordplay until we can find you a good healer," she sighed and looked sympathetically at him. "You could open the cut again." Link looked at her blankly for a moment but ended up forcing a smile. "I needed some down-time anyway," "That's one heck of a way to get it." Melinda muttered as he left. "Worse things have happened." Link called back to her. He placed a handful of rupees on the desk in the lobby as he left and continued out the door rubbing his neck (which he instantly found was not a good idea). Erin, who had been seated at the desk turned to face Melinda as she came out "The boy's as dumb as a rock." Erin noted. Melinda looked thoughtful "But he's cute." Erin only rolled her eyes.


	3. Of Flesh and Blood

'_Wake up…come now, you've slept far too long…won't you please wake up for me?'_  
A rasping noise came from under the watery surface of the floor and two very red eyes blinked up at Veran. "You are not my master." Said a voice, familiar but with a distinct chill to it.  
Veran lifted an eyebrow. "You wish to have your old master back? After the punishment you endured…? After your _failure?_" The eyes blinked sharply and disappeared much to the woman's disappointment. "I think you will find that I am a far better master…If you want proof--." She trailed off, examining the eerie place. The sky was a hazy turquoise, no creature flew through it, and no breeze graced the air. The floor (for the place was a room) resembled a mirror of liquid, and indeed, her feet were just barely immersed in a cool sort of feeling. However, the one thing that made it odd was a tiny island, just off the center of the room, which bore nothing but a scraggly dead tree. It was beside that tree that the eyes appeared again.  
"What is your proof?" The voice asked, its question echoing into the distance.  
A shadow grew visible around the crimson eyes, and slowly the sorceress could see the form of a young Hylian, purely shadow, but completely three-dimensional. She slid across the room towards the creature, keeping just enough distance to prevent him from either shying away or attacking. "I'll show you," She said, snapping her fingers. A gray vapor curled up around the creature, seeming to seep into it slowly. Within moments, it had gone completely gray and just as quickly the gray left and something far better remained. "There is more to be offered, this is only the beginning…but imagine it, my friend," Veran said, coming around behind him. "You will be free to exact your revenge, if only you join me…" The person knelt down beside the watery floor, looking intently at his reflection. The silvery-white hair that hung around his face, the pale skin that had replaced mere shadow, tattoos on his jawbone and one across the lids of his left eye, he'd never had his own identity before. The adolescent flexed one gauntlet-covered hand and spoke again. "I will help you," he said icily. "But you won't be my master…_no one will_." 

---

_Dark horizons fill my view,  
Wet scarlet stains the ground,  
But finally, darling, I see you,  
In that, my hope abounds._

You stand upon the open plane,  
Slim hands upon pale lips,  
The horror that you feel inside,  
The heart within that rips.

My darling don't you see?  
I fought my way to you,  
Please darling turn your eyes from me,  
Ere I spy their dew.

You ran away as rain fell down,  
It washed our love away.  
I fell upon my knees,  
All I could do is pray.  
May someone blessed find you,  
His arms as strong as mine,  
But a love that burns as deep in him, you're likely not to find.

The brush he held dropped to the ground and Link flopped backwards on the grass, careful of his neck. If anything the extra time off was helping his writing skills to flourish, but how was that to help when it came time to draw a sword again? He could write all he wanted to, and imagine as much as he pleased, but it wouldn't make the flow of his blade any more efficient. He flexed his writing hand and corked his inkwell before peeling himself from the grassy meadow where Epona grazed. The warm breeze was comfortable, and invited him to stay longer, but he didn't lavish the thought of sticking around ranch property long. Malon would make him stay for dinner, which meant Talon would tell him stories of the good old days while Ingo grumbled about how much better things were back then.  
He was just about to whistle for Epona when Link heard a rustling sound behind him.   
"Link," Malon gasped as he turned to face her. "This---this is _yours?_" she asked, eyes wide.  
As if every girl in Hyrule wasn't already tripping over their own feet to get to him, let's add a sensitive side. Link groaned inwardly and forced a small smile. "Uh-huh, yeah...it's mine." The red head positively beamed. "That's---it's---that's _amazing_, Link! I never knew, I mean...wow."  
"Um, thank you?" He tried to pry the girl's fingers from his arm, but it was no use, for such a small person she had quite a grip.  
"You'll be staying for dinner, won't you?" she asked hopefully. Link noticed her hands getting tighter on his arm, forget quite a grip, she had a vice-grip.  
"Actually, I--"  
"**Lovely!**" Malon shouted, "I'll start supper strait away!" she rushed off leaving Link to stare at his arm. Looking around a second later, he realized his poem was gone.

---

"Hit HARDER!"  
The serpentine blade of Dark Link's sword flew at Veran's side, a barrier springing up to meet it. The boy moved with remarkable intensity, as if every movement he made had a meaning behind it. Regardless of that, however, Veran felt an absence of power in his swordplay. He drew his sword back again and sent it forward to meet her stomach, but again, the barrier was the only thing it hit. The sorceress raised her hand and sent forth five green orbs. Her attacker stopped mid-swing to see that the glowing orbs were getting bigger as they floated towards him, but another thing he saw was the growing smirk on Veran's aqua face.  
Quickly, he broadened his focus and strafed backwards, noosing his bow and drawing an arrow as quickly and efficiently as his body would allow. The second he'd shot his first arrow, one of the orbs hurled into him. It constricted his entire body, pressing the breath from his lungs. "What're you trying to do?" he choked as thick, translucent-green ooze spread towards his neck. Veran smiled foully "You're out of practice," she hissed in delight "I just want to make sure that you're prepared for anything."  
Dark Link snarled, anger building. He was being toyed with, she thought she was stronger than he was! His snarl turned into a wicked grin, she'd made a dreadful mistake. He took as deep a breath as he could and quite suddenly burst into a black vapor. The mist escaped Veran's trap with ease, and now that he knew the sorceress wouldn't play fair, he had no intention of doing so either. His strange form curled across the room, stopping in front of Veran and encircling her slowly, what could she do to stop a mist, after all? It began reforming into several copies of the dark boy, and as each one solidified he brought out a different weapon. One held a mace with an over-long chain; another held a bomb, fuse lit and burning rapidly; yet another had a crossbow at the ready, perfectly aimed at the woman's head. The list went on and on, all ten copies sneering at their intended target. Veran panicked. It was one thing to use the small bit of magic she had earlier, it was completely different to try and shield herself from ten attackers at once.  
Somewhere nearby, Dark Link smiled to himself, the power of suggestion was such an effective weapon... The ten copies of himself that stood below him were clearly armed, and naturally Veran assumed that they would attack simultaneously; a sad mistake. He gave the mental commands for his troop to attack and the clones sprang at once. Veran sent the four remaining orbs to defend herself, but just as she did, the ten attackers burst apart and the air whistled behind her. When she turned it was to find the real Dark Link's blade poised for her heart. "You're going to kill me, my little shadow?" she asked, her voice ringing with forced calm. He gave her a wry smile "Allow me to clear up a few details. I don't belong to you, and I made that clear from the start, you'll do well to remember that. And I have a name," his blade was dangerously close to her now "It's Marid, and that's _exactly_ what you'll call me, savvy?" He whipped the blade around, narrowly missing her arm, and sheathed it at his back. Veran snarled, returning to her cold composure. "Savvy."

---

"An' so I told 'im, I says, when I was a kid we didn't have any er these fancy bows and such; I says, we used good ol' slingshots. Never missed neither!" Malon began plucking up plates and bowls from the feast she'd prepared and Link cast her a pleading look. "Things were simple back then," Ingo grunted, taking a swig from his ale. "Never got hounded abou' _-hic-_ deadlines, or any o' that nonsense." The pink-nosed man started at the sound of shattering china, and Link darted up from the table to help Malon who gave him a small wink when he took the dishes from her. "Clumsy me," she said breezily.  
"Very nice of you," The boy muttered, "Now why couldn't you've been 'clumsy' two hours ago?"  
"Do you want to go talk to daddy again?" Malon asked, waggling a finger.  
Link cleared his throat "Why don't I wash these up for you? Go rest your feet!"  
The redhead grinned at him and gave him a peck on the cheek, "How thoughtful! I think I will." She said leaving a very flustered Link frowning after her.


	4. Cold Comfort

Malon sat a small stack of folded clothes on the bed in the guestroom. Its sheets laid messily on it, occasionally re-wrinkling with the breeze from the open window. Chinks of sunlight lit the room in a warm sort of way, and the somewhat messy writing desk in the corner increased the air of occupancy. Malon smiled to herself, gently smoothing out the bed dressings. Since her mother died, this little room hadn't seen much use. Her mother loved company; but her father, depressed after the death of his wife, had closed the guestroom door. Now that Link was here, it was like old times, like feeling at home again. In a way, that was all Malon had wanted.  
She left the room, door still open, and wandered downstairs and to the kitchen table where Talon sat. She peered over is shoulder at the paper he was reading, his pipe clicking between his teeth as he mouthed the words. She'd never had his interest in stocks, seemed absolutely boring… But he read over them like she would read a fantasy novel. Malon hugged her father's shoulders lightly and headed outside, her father's eyes twinkling as they followed her out. He chuckled to himself and discarded the stocks page in favor of headlines as the door closed with a snap.

Link squinted, the bright sunlight hitting his face as he continued washing one of the horses. He dipped the brush he was using back in the water bucket, giving the mare a pat. His time at the ranch had been more than comfortable, but by now, anyone with good sense realized that he had to make an _effort_ to do nothing. The first week there he insisted on helping Malon with the housework; the second week there, the two were able to finish so quickly that in all his free time, Link got bored and started doing repair work around the house (of his own accord). And somewhere about the middle of the second month, he'd found himself cleaning stables, watering and washing horses, and making deliveries for the dairy (but Malon still had to milk the cows herself as something about the very thought of it made the boy's skin crawl). He'd also found that Ingo utterly despised his presence.  
Link began brushing the horse again, water sloshing down his arm. The breeze blew against him, warm with the sun and scented with grass and grain, and he wondered…just to himself…if he really wanted to go back. It was perfect here, even with Ingo getting tipsy and passing out at the kitchen table. He felt at home here. He didn't have to watch his back all the time, or worry about his next meal. As long as he did his share of the work, his board and food were paid for (and he halfway expected it would be even if he lazed around all day). And as he felt warm fabric hit his back, and Malon's arms came around his neck, it made returning all the more difficult to imagine. "C'mon, hero. Finish up and come in for lunch, okay?" The girl asked warmly. Link turned around and grinned. "That I can do." He replied, Malon's faint smile becoming a bit stronger. She stood there for a moment, arms still draped around his neck. The look in her eye told him that she was torn about something. "A-are you---" but before he could finish his sentence, Malon's lips met his. And it occurred to him…maybe life was _meant_ to be spent away from the horrors of the world… Malon gave him one last smile before trudging back to the house leaving Link to finish his duties with a dazed smile on his face.  
---

"'V'you seen the news today?" Talon asked through a mouthful of potatoes. He produced a copy of the front page from under his chair, handing it to Link. "Seems the royals 'ave got themselves quite a pickle if you ask me." The boy's eyes scanned the page quickly, taking in words he could barely believe:

_'Investigations on the recent tomb raids have led authorities to the heart of Hyrule to interrogate one of three prime suspects in the case. Sheikah Wynn Impa was found unconscious and bruised in the Royal Tomb's grand burial chamber nearly three months ago, however no charges were filed due to her position as royal guard. The tomb's entrance hall is home to two hundred Sheikah graves, all of which had been opened, and their former deceased are missing completely. In the words of one investigator "The dead don't simply get up and walk away." Further investigation has led to the discovery of vandalism to other historical areas in the tomb; namely, a memorial stone engraved with the notes to a royal ballad.  
The remaining two suspects have yet to be interrogated, but officials say that a young man in his mid-adolescent years and a watchman for the Kakariko police are said to have been seen at the scene of the crime. Further bulletins as the case develops._

-E. Edmundson'

Link dropped the paper on the table and got to his feet. "I---I have to go…"   
"Don't announce it to the world, boy!" Ingo spat as he walked through the door. He tossed a pitchfork in the corner, retrieved a bottle of whiskey from a crate nearby, and flopped down at the dinner table. "No sir, it's not like that," The boy yelped, "I just realized, I –er- forgot to make a delivery." He slid the paper back to Talon and ran to his room, Malon and Talon exchanging confused looks at the various crashes and clangs coming from the guestroom. A second later, Link dashed back out, gave Malon a kiss on the head, and was headed for the door when Talon grabbed his sleeve and drug the boy down. "Take the crate with you," he grunted, jerking his head towards where the bin of whiskey sat. "Drop it in the river for all I care, but don't bring it back." Link gave a quick nod and Malon got to her feet, dragging the crate out herself the second that Ingo took another long draught from his bottle. "And she'll be wanting to go with you," Talon added after the door had closed.  
"But Sir I-"  
"If you don't _let_ her go, she'll follow you."  
"Sir I can do th—"  
"Who's going to drag you out of there if you get hurt?"  
"Sorry, sir?"  
"If you're ambushed or whatnot, who's gonna help you?  
"I've never been ambushed."  
"Well judgin' by all that equipment you got on you, you're gonna be on the road a while."  
Link said nothing. If he protested now, he'd have to tell Talon the truth, which he was sure wouldn't turn out well considering that he'd have to admit to being at the scene of a crime (that all of Hyrule knew about by now).  
"Take her with you, look after her, and lay your bed roll twenty feet away from hers."  
"Yes sir."  
"Good."  
Ingo watched as Link left. "Where's their delivery –hic- at?"  
Talon puffed on his pipe for a moment before answering. "Kakariko, I believe."  
---

Link walked into the stables, lugging his shield behind him. He'd vacantly gathered another bow and a quiver full of arrows from the supply shed out back, thinking that maybe he'd teach Malon to use it when they set up camp for the night. He entered the stables still rather lost in his thoughts, and set his load down. "Malon, come here, would you?" There was no answer, but the sound of cloth being dropped in a nearby stable caught his attention. He eased over towards where the noise came from, just to be hit in the head by a cloak. "Stay where you are, I'll be there in a minute!" Malon told him sharply. Link's eyes widened and he moved back slightly, not daring to wonder what exactly the girl was doing. He stood in awkward silence for several minutes, the quiet only broken by rustling and the occasional neigh from one of the horses. A few more minutes and his feet had fallen asleep. He tapped them on the ground, gazing around the stables idly, and every now and then readjusting his belt or baldric.

What seemed like an eternity later, Link heard a bunch of small clinging and clanking noises, and Malon tossed what looked like a wadded up dress out of the stable. His face went bright red. "Alright, I'm ready!" He heard her call. He swiveled around before she could come out. "I don't think you are." He called back. "Oh quit being such a baby, I only changed clothes!" She announced. Link turned back around, not saying anything for a while. "What…? Are they that bad…?" Malon asked with an alarmed expression. Link's jaw hung slack. "You----er----you look----"  
"Like a guy…?"  
"Well…."  
Malon smiled slightly "I wouldn't get any respect otherwise." She pointed out. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail at the base of her head; all makeup had been removed from her face, which was now lightly smudged with dirt. Link assumed she must've bandaged herself because she was now wearing a loose tan tunic that laid rather flatly across her chest, and a pair of worn, brown leather trousers fit comfortably over her, tucked into a pair of boots very similar to Link's. A sword hung sheathed at her hip, and she carried a squared off stance that could have fooled anyone.  
"You aren't going on a run and I know it, so don't expect me to lose the sword." She said following his eyes. Link shuddered "You've got no idea how disturbing this is." He mumbled. Malon only frowned at him "If I go as I normally look I'll be treated just like every other girl my age."  
"Oh, so you'd rather be treated like a man?" Link asked in a would-be-casual tone. He chuckled slightly at her loss for words but didn't delve into it any further. At least now Talon could rest assured that the boy wouldn't make any moves.  
---

"The ancient and noble Sheikah, what a lovely race…" Veran mused. "Brilliant warriors, all of them…" She nudged one of the Sheikah with her foot. The man had been dead for one-hundred years, but hadn't decomposed at all. He looked as though he was sleeping. "Tell me, Marid, how do the dead simply walk out of their graves?"  
The boy's red eyes glared at her coldly, his words forced to play along.  
"How, Sorceress?" he drawled, a hint of annoyance to his voice. The woman smiled nastily. "Very much like this…"  
Marid opened his mouth to comment on her rather stupid jest, but his attention was distracted by another one of the Sorceress' many tricks. The floor of the dark cavern they were in was slowly flooding with a shining purple liquid. It had appeared out of nowhere at all, and welled up, enveloping the dead Sheikah warriors. The one at Veran's feet began to convulse, Marid's eyes widening in an almost horrified way.

He sprang to his feet, the large room now filled with the strange shaking beings. The same one that had started convulsing first gasped, its silvery head bursting from the liquid, brilliant violet eyes blinking and an eerie expression of mingled wonder and captivity on its face. "Veran!" Marid's voice yelled as Sheikah began rising up everywhere. "Veran you fool! What have you done?" His pale figure pressed against the rough stone wall, fingers groping at it, trying to keep away from the people in front of him.

Veran did not reply, at least not to him. Her voice rose to an incredible severity, and the loud hisses she breathed splashed together in a cold way. _"Uoy ecaf tsum selbon suorotiart eht! Emit ruoy si won, esira hakiehs elbaronoh tsom!"_  
The weird language reverberated through the cavern, Sheikah men and women roaring equally strange replies. Marid glanced at them, edging his way along the wall. They all had nearly silver hair, but their eyes were vastly different shades of vibrant and unnatural colors. He wondered vaguely if that was how his eyes looked to other people, but quickly set his childish ponderings aside, trying to teleport out of the area to a quieter place. The strange verse had an odd sort of repressing effect on his strength, and he could feel himself fading.

When he'd finally decided that his efforts were in vain, he felt his way along the wall until he stumbled back into a hallway that led outside. He followed it about halfway and slumped against the wall, a sort of dizzy feeling coming over him as he escaped the murmurs of Veran's new pawns. She'd never mentioned plans of this, and in truth, she'd never seemed so strong before. Earlier she'd even been unwilling to use her powers to any extent. But now she was calling up the sleeping warriors of old, power that Ganondorf himself wouldn't touch…what had changed her mind?

Marid thought over it. He'd been doing grunt-work for the past two months, biding his time… He'd set false trails; convinced authorities that he was indeed Lincoln Hyla, and made sure that his assumed identity showed up at every court date. He'd successfully cleared his counterpart's name, and even managed not to be seen by the princess. But when he thought about it, he had no idea what Veran did all that time (though it was obvious that she'd gathered a 'few resources' from Kakariko).

The boy took a moment to fade the tattoos on his face and change his eye and hair color before he headed out of the hallway. That was the only thing Veran had taught him, and it was only so 'Link' could make appearances every now and then.  
As Marid emerged into the heat of Death Mountain, he squinted, sunlight flooding his eyes. He also stood dead-still. He'd heard the sound of walking behind him… Whoever had been following him was careless; they'd actually have to make an effort to be any louder. The person brushed past him, and once the boy's eyes adjusted, he could see that it was a Sheikah male with hair brighter than the others, and newer looking attire…  
Marid had seen him before outside of Dodongo's Cavern…he knew he had…  
And as the man looked back at him for a piercing moment, it came to him…  
The man had been at all of Impa's trials.  
And he'd been there as her attorney.


End file.
